Thursday, April 14, 2011


If you had thought to look
Just beyond the silver brook,
You may have met a chatty jay
Who would have led you down the way
To the meadow, green and gold
Where, I had often been told -
By those who seem to know it well -
Is the place the where the fairies dwell.
If you take the time to gaze
Through the early evening haze.
You will see them flit and fly
Until they've fairly filled the sky.
Some scoffers will say not true,
But trust me here I am telling you.
It's not birds or bees
That are flying all around those trees.
I have heard their tinkling laughs,
And felt the swish as they've flown passed.
One afternoon I fell asleep
Beneath the giant alder tree.
I woke just as the moon began to rise.
Right there before my very eyes
The fairy princess took her place
Upon her throne of Queen Annes lace.
The other fairies also came.
To my surprise they knew my name.
They wished me well and on my way,
And so I left though I wanted to stay.
But often you will find me here
And if you'd like we can both draw near,
To see if there are fairies again to see,
In the haze or near the alder trees.

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